Survivors01: Exiled
by OraLynx
Summary: Everyone wonders what happened to Bob when he got shot into the Web; this is one author's answer. Set during the end of Season 2, and continuing into Season 3.
1. S01.1

Survivors 01 - Exiled  
~part 1  
by Ora Lynx  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
"NOOOOOO!!!"  
Bob banged against the thick walls of his prison, not caring that the outside atmosphere would be lethal. The pod spun, out of control, spinning endlessly in the swirling energy. Without gravity or anything to hit, there was no chance of stopping it.  
He strained against the window, wishing with all his might he could turn the pod back into the portal. Another spin brought him one last view of Mainframe.  
The portal closed.  
Bob backed up until he hit the curved wall behind him, forcing himself to stare where only a nano before had been his home. His breath came in short gulps as he suppressed the cry that welled within him.  
"Damn you, MegaByte." he whispered. "Damn you to every User hell there is."  
He looked around the small, cramped pod, looking for a loose...*anything* he could use to open the door with. The walls were smooth and tightly built, and nothing more than himself resided in it.  
"So, did you trap me to die in the Web, MegaByte? Or to die in here first?"  
A politely sinister voice seemed to echo from the ceiling. "Really, Bob. I don't think it matters all that much."  
Bob narrowed his eyes. _That virus wouldn't have a chance to be talking to me now--not with the Web creatures and dealing with my friends..._  
"Oh, come now. The great Guardian? Speechless?"  
"You can't be MegaByte."  
MegaByte's chilling laugh haunted him. "But Bob, when have I ever *not* taken the chance to torment you? Really, I thought you would have it all figured out by now."  
Bob smiled coldly. "You downloaded a copy of your program into the pod, for the sole purpose of teasing me? That's low MegaByte, even for you."  
"Yes, well, I hope you appreciate all that I do for you, Bob. I want the last voice you hear before you are deleted to be *mine*."  
Bob pressed his back against the wall, pushing with his feet against the window. "Fat chance, MegaBreath."  
MegaByte's voice took on a taunting tone. "Bob, are you stealing names from Enzo now?" A pause. "Well, I guess it fits, what with little Enzo being the only Guardian around Megaframe now. I hope you didn't give him too much training, Bob. It will make my job so much easier."  
Bob stopped pushing for a moment, recalling guiltily how long he had waited to make Enzo a cadet Guardian. The thought of Mainframe now unprotected- _No, they *are* protected. Just because I'm not there..._ He forced the words out. "Enzo's not by himself. Everyone in *Main*frame will fight you, MegaByte. You won't win."  
The voice chuckled. "Ah, but you'll never know, will you, Bob? Because you'll never make it back to *Mega*frame. Go ahead, kick out the door. What would you rather deal with--lack of oxygen, or Web degradation? Either way, you *will* be deleted, and I have WON!" he laughed cruely.  
Bob clapped his hands over his ears to shut out the evil laughter. He kicked again at the door, feeling it begin to give. "You forget, virus. I'm a Guardian. I don't delete all that easily." His bravado sounded false, even to himself.  
"This is the Web, *Guardian*. Your precious motto and protocols can't save you here. Can you hear the hissing air, Bob? That's the Web, welcoming you to your fate."  
"Glitch - We-" Bob inhaled sharply as MegaByte resumed his laughter. His hand fell of it's own accord to his left wrist, where his keytool had resided since his graduation from the Academy. He leaned his head against the clear door. watching the Web spiral around him. Outside, a herd of low-class Web creatures screamed by, failing to attract the distracted Guardian's attention.  
_Dot...I'm so sorry,_ Bob thought to himself, staring sightlessly at the world around him. _I *had* to trust MegaByte--he was the only one with the hardware we needed. We needed his help, even...even at the cost of me. At least Mainframe has a chance now; you've fought MegaByte before, you can win! I know it. The lesser of two evils, Dot. There was no other way; no other way to save Mainframe from *my* fate._ He shook his head, trying not to laugh aloud where the viral copy would hear him and start taunting again. _Mouse warned me so many times, and even Phong told me I was random. But I was right, and so were they._  
Bob was jarred from his thoughts by a rough shaking, tossing him around in the small pod. He tried to sit up, looking up through the window.  
To stare straight into the compacted eyes of a *very* large Web creature.  
"Ahh!" Bob would have backed away, but he was already pressed against the back of the pod. The creature stared at him for another nano, then passed from his sight. Quenching the fear that had rose within him, he pushed himself back to the window. All around his pod, various Web creatures flew/floated around him, of almost every class he had ever heard of. Most were smaller than the Class M destroyers that had nearly decimated Mainframe. He could even spot a few of the larger, unnamed beasts that were regularly used for riding by the Net-famous Web Riders: sprites who had entered or been trapped in the Web, unprotected from the lethal elements that almost instantly started to degrade codes and sprite. Specially trained Guardians were assigned to the Web, to gather these sprites together and show them how to live in the Web, as they were not generally welcomed back to their original systems.  
_Will I become one of them?_ Bob thought absently, feeling already the start of degradation around his temples. The leak had brought him much needed air, but also gave the Web access to him. _Guardians are protected longer, but I don't have the upgrade for Web survival._  
Something else hit the side of Bob's pod, spinning him into the far wall, then rolling him around. He tucked his head to his chest, trying to protect himself from any damage. The pod finally rolled to a rest, and Bob could feel up and down again, instead of the weightless feeling of the last hour. He kicked once more at the door of the pod, satisfied when it finally dented and swung roughly open. He hefted himself out, sinking down right next to the smooth outside walls, feeling the renewed, sharper bite of the Web degradation now.  
Looking around, Bob found himself inside a dark cave. Shadows seemed to move and fluctuate around him, changing shape wherever he looked. Focusing straight in front of him, Bob watched warily as a shapely figure emerged from the shadows.  
Bob stood shakily, trying to identify the sprite before him. Her skin was a dark violet, highlighted with glowing veins the same yellowish-lime color of her shoulder length hair. A thin silver tiara held all but two locks of hair away from her face, brushing it back to reveal more veins on her neck, and glowing lime-green eyes that stared into his own.  
"State your name and format." Bob steadied himself, uncomfortable with the way the sprite was studying him.  
She grinned at him, pursing her lips. "My name is Dai; my format is my own. And who are you, to invade my camp?"  
"Guardian 452, of the system Mainframe. And I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."  
"Ooh, a Guardian? How special. Though I don't believe I've ever been to Mainframe."  
The girl came farther out of the shadows, revealing the cause of the constantly shifting shadows. Six long, barbed tentacles were attached to a very well-formed body, waving behind her. Even in the dim cave, the scaled limbs caught the light, making the shadows bend and shift even more. Bob looked from the tentacles to the glowing veins and back, years of training screaming through his mind. "You-you're viral...merged with a Web creature? How random are you?" He backed quickly away from her offered handshake, eyeing the sharp, curled fingernails.  
Dai grinned at him. "No, Guardian--not merged and not just any viral. I'm a Web virus; formatted to survive and conquer the Web. I rule this sector, and all creatures within it." She took note of Bob's roaming eyes, and glanced around at the Web creatures that were gathering around them. "They really are quite remarkable, and can be infected just like any other sprite." Dai eyed the Guardian hungrily. "Though many choose to join me freely, without being infected. Would _you_ care to join me, Guardian? Your home is gone, and you obviously have no protection from the Web."  
The violet virus approached him, swinging her body seductively. "Come now, Guardian. I rule the Web; I can make it worth your while." She reached for Bob's neck, but he moved away from her, careful of her tentacles and the shadows behind him.  
"No way, Dai. I'm a Guardian; it's my job to stop you. Web or not, I won't allow you to infect this place."  
Dai laughed, licking her full lips. "Are you sure, dear Guardian?" She seemed to consider for a moment, then smiled at him. "I'll allow you to remain uninfected if you agree to join me. Just think; together we could rule the free Net--a Guardian and a Virus working together? No one could defeat us."  
Bob shook his head again, his neck starting to burn from the air. He took another step backwards, from the searching tentacles. "No way. I'll delete you first."  
For the first time, Bob saw anger in the lime eyes, reminding him of Hexadecimal and her more angry masks. Eyes narrowed and tentacles curled angrily, Dai turned away from the now concerned Guardian. "So, " her voice came lightly, but with an undertone that made Bob flinch. "You won't help me at all?" She shrugged her thin shoulders, looking back to Bob. "If it was only that, I wouldn't mind...too much." Her hands locked together, her entire body seeming to freeze in place. Only her voice continued. "But you threatened me, Guardian. And even though you are in no place to back that up, I will have to make an example of you."  
Bob suppressed a shudder at her tone. "What, no automatic deletions?"  
Her long tentacles whipped out faster than his eyes could follow, striking him across the chest, flinging him back. Before he could rise, more tentacles wrapped around his limbs, drawing him further into the shadows. One glimpse of the creatures that grabbed him was all Bob needed to identify them.  
"Class S." he whispered.  
Dai turned and grinned at him, her body relaxing again into it's supple form, sugar-sweet again. "Ah, you're very well educated, for a Net Guardian. Yes, these are Class S Web creatures, merged with the various sprites and whatnot that have had the unfortunate luck to get trapped here."  
Bob closed his eyes, trying not to think about the creatures beside him; Web creatures that bore slight -if not horribly maimed- resemblance to what had once been Net-sprites. "S Class," he recited, more for his own benefit than the virus'. "Merge with sprites, destroying the body, but able to retain codes and all information stored in the central memory banks."  
"Very good, Guardian! And did they also tell you at the Academy what a properly trained Class S can do for an interrogation?" Bob refused to reply, but Dai watched as he visibly paled. "Yes, I see that you do. Now, fortunately for you, I just happen to have a properly trained Class S at my disposal. So what will it be, Guardian? Will you help me now, or do I get what I want the hard way? I control your fate now--either way."  
Bob had no room to struggle against the Web creatures, and almost no will left to fight. _At least she doesn't know where Mainframe is. Dot, I'm so sorry. I never meant-_  
Another, younger creature stood in front of him, feeling his head with soft, leathery tentacles. Bob tried to flinch away, but it only grabbed his head, holding him tighter. Dai shrugged, still smiling. "Have it your way, Guardian. Wysiwyg, you know what to do. Be gentle now."  
Bob stared in horror as the creature *nodded* to the virus. Three of seven eyes stared into his, intelligence shining brightly within them. A long, barb-tipped, toothy tentacle reached out to caress his cheek, then reached down to wrap around his neck. Every breath brought a tickle to his throat, and the knowledge that he wouldn't see his home again. Closing his eyes, he missed Dai's knowing smirk.  
"Now Whysi, be nice to the Guardian. I want to infect him after I have access to the SuperComputer."  
Bob's eyes snapped open. "The SuperComputer? Never!! I can't let you have those codes!"  
Dai laughed as he struggled against the restraining tentacles, only succeeding in tightening their grip. "For a Guardian, you're pretty basic. Did you honestly think I wouldn't get what I want? You can't stop me!"  
Bob strained against the choking bonds. "You'll...never...get them. I'll...delete first.."  
Dai frowned, trying to figure out if he was serious or not. "Wysiwyg, now! Get me those codes. And don't destroy him!"  
The creature *chirped*, then latched its tentacle into Bob's neck, burying the pincer beneath the flesh. Bob gasped, not even able to draw in enough breath to scream from the pain, *feeling* the alien codes prying at his own. Slumping in the loosening tentacles of his captors, he fought a losing internal struggle, attempting to shutdown before any important data could be accessed. _This would be so much easier with Glitch_, he thought desperately. _Have to...shut...down..._ He moaned aloud when he felt his RAM being accessed, vaguely hearing Dai's triumphant laugh. Memories seemed to scroll though his mind, as if a media player had been initiated. He fought the creature to the last files, fighting for control, knowing that he couldn't allow *anyone* to get...  
A sharp pain lanced through his head at the creatures' touch, an invisible barrier made to protect at all costs; washing through both his mind and the creature's. Bob *felt* the creature's pain with his own, then all was darkness and silence.  
  



	2. S01.2

Survivors 01- Exiled  
~part 2  
by Ora Lynx  
  
--------------------------------------------------------  
  
Bob drifted from dream to dream for longer than he could keep track of, his program off line, and unable to be accessed. Somewhere deep inside, he *knew* something was wrong, but pieces were missing; a partial code here, a missing link there. Then *someone* was invading, trying to access; trying to mend. Shut out of his own core, unable to wake, or access even his basic files, the Guardian was trapped in his own nightmares.  
"He's a virhas, Honey. You cahn't trust a virhas."  
"Are you sure this is right, Bob? I mean- we can't trust MegaByte."  
"Cadet Enzo...Alphanumeric, Bob! I mean, Sir!"  
"I hope you didn't give him too much training, Bob. It will make my job so much easier."  
_No, I can't let them...I can't let it...no, no, nooo_ "No!!"  
Bob flinched awake, fighting against a strong pair of hands, literally holding him to the hard surface he was resting on. His eyes refused to focus, giving him only a blurry picture of a strange, scaled sprite looming above him, gripping his shoulders. Bob clenched his eyes shut, and fought to control the panic that gripped his weary and aching body. Settling down, he listened to his own gasping breaths, trying to feel his body through the massive pounding in his head. The hands released him, and he brought a shaky hand to his forehead, feeling the sheen of sweat that lay there, though he was shivering with cold.  
He tried to draw a breath to calm his breathing, but it caught in his bruised throat, sending him into a paroxysm of coughing. Hands gripped him to sit him upright, patting his back gently to aid him, but as the energy rushed from his head he slumped forward, unconscious.  
  
He dreamed again, this time of an empty Mainframe, and of a virus that glowed with green veins, releasing her infection everywhere, fighting against a vengeful shadow that threatened her at every turn. Navy blue washed over his vision, blocking out the light, then drew slowly away, leaving his mind empty, free, and whole again.  
  
Bob fought his way on-line, struggling to find out what was going on around him. Voices floated around him, indiscernible at first, then slowly growing more coherent.  
[He was nearly off-lined, but he should be okay. I treated him as best I could, but I can't take him with me.]"  
Another voice answered, the deeper tone setting him apart. "[Our clan will take care of the Guardian. Will you return for him?]"  
The braying of a beast and shifting material could be heard. "[Hopefully, my friend. In the meantime, you can let him protect you.]" A pause. "[You can do no worse. He is a Guardian--he will try anyway. Teach him how. Let him be 'Interface.']"  
"[You would give this one your Name?]" The voice was shocked. "[You realize this is not a matter to be taken lightly, ...Interface.]"  
"[Yes. But he will earn it. Tell him nothing of me--I will return when I am able.]" Another pause and a thump. "[I *will* return.]"  
A second fist thumped against flesh. "[As you wish. Good hunting, Interface--wherever the Winds may take you.]"  
"[Good hunting, Cannon. May the Northern Wind guide your paths always.]"  
Bob struggled to stay conscious, but a faint rocking motion and a thick covering tucked around him gently lulled him to sleep.  
  
Bob woke quietly in a strange room, a thick, leathery quilt pulled up to his chin and another beneath his head. He took a deep breath, forcing air into his stiff lungs, and looked around. He was in a small room with little furnishing; a chair, a small table, a chest, and the bed he lay on were all that he could see. A wide door faced him from the other side of the room, and a soft light emanated from the ceiling, lighting the room.  
Bob pushed himself slowly into a sitting position, careful not to move too quickly. When he had situated himself, he pulled his hands out from beneath the blanket and stared at them. More of that leathery substance stretched across his fingers and arms, forming a thin armor around his usual uniform, colored in gray-blues and greens. A quick check proved the 'armor' to extend the length of his body, from his boots up to the pit of his neck. Above that, Bob could feel the rough patches of skin that had degraded, leaving permanent scars.  
Footsteps outside the door made Bob freeze in place, listening to the sounds that echoed though what he assumed to be a hall. They spoke in a language that Bob couldn't immediately identify, but could understand for no reason he could think of.  
"[So when do you think Cannon will allow him to join us?]"  
A snort. "[I don't see why Cannon hasn't destroyed him yet. No one can replace the One, this one is foolish to even try.]"  
"[You should not talk so against Cannon. It could easily be misconstrued for rebellion, Slayer.]"  
"[Ah, you worry too much. I wouldn't...]"  
Bob lost their voices as they moved away from his door, left with an uneasy feeling. _Something isn't right here..._ "Wha-" Bob's voice caught in his throat, drawing a raspy cough from him. When he could speak again, he realized what he had heard.  
"They were speaking Modem!" His own voice was eerily quiet in the still air, while the others he had heard clearly from outside the room. "But I don't speak Modem--how did I-" Bob shut his eyes and ran a complete systems check, his Guardian format trying to identify any glitches or new programs installed. Nanos later, his suspicions were confirmed. "Now where did that come from?" Two new programs had been downloaded to him: the Web-armor upgrade and the older Modem language.  
Bob was still contemplating this when the door hissed and opened, revealing a tall, gaunt, fully armored sprite carrying a tray. The sprite looked at him, quickly shut the door, and came to rest the tray on the bedside table. The sprite pulled off the helmet, revealing thin, ragged features, disfigured by Web degradation.  
"[And how are you feeling today, Guardian?]"  
Bob winced at first at the high-pitched Modem, but found that he could reply easily. "[Quite well, thank you. Where...am I?]"   
The sprite handed him a bowl of what *appeared* to be soup, but Bob wasn't too sure about the ingredients. "[I hope you like the soup, Cannon wasn't sure if you would. I'm afraid there isn't much else to eat, though.]"  
Bob tasted the soup warily. It was luke-warm, and very thin, but Bob decided it would be edible. "[Thank you.]"  
The sprite bowed to him, then picked up her helmet. "[Cannon will be in to see you soon, please do not leave the room.]" She pulled her helmet on before leaving, and Bob could hear the hiss as it sealed, just like the door as it closed behind her.  
Bob stared at the soup in his lap. He didn't *want* to know what was in it, but he figured he had a good idea. "Well, I know I'm still in the Web. That much is obvious. But who are..." Bob smacked his palm to his forehead. "Web Riders, dip switch. But what happened to-"  
The door hissed again, and a large, heavily built and armored sprite entered the room. He seemed to glare at Bob for a nano, then came to sit beside the bed. Bob ate his soup warily, waiting for the sprite to make the first move.   
The sprite waited for him to finish, then cleared his throat, offering his massive hand to Bob. "[I am Cannon, Prime of the Eastern Web Dwellers, leader of the Web Riders. Welcome to your new home, Interface.]"  
Bob took his hand gingerly, aware of the strength behind the firm shake. "[Thank you, Cannon.]" he replied in hesitant Modem. "[But my name is-]"  
Cannon shook his head, silencing Bob. "[Your Name is Interface, given to you by the One, that you might be welcomed among the Riders. Your other name is your own; now you go as Interface.]"  
Bob was confused. "[Who gave me this name? I-I don't understand. Why am I here?]"  
Cannon sighed, an odd, off-key whistle in Modem. "[The One gave you this Name, more I can not tell you. You are here because there is no way out of the Web, save by a Hunter, which has been lost.]" He could tell the Net-sprite did not understand, but Cannon could not explain any better without a lengthy discussion. "[As to understanding, that I'm afraid will only come in time. Rest now, Interface. Regain your strength, that you might join us again in riding the Winds. I will speak to you again when I am able.]"  
Bob was left with too many questions, hardly any of which had been answered by the mysterious Web Rider. _Who *was* Interface, and why do I have his name now? Who or what is a 'Hunter', and why can only he leave the Web?_ From the words, Bob knew there was some sort of significance to a 'Name', but he couldn't remember the teachings of his System Fundamentals teacher. _The Winds had some sort of mythological meaning, but what? I wish I had paid more attention in that class..._ The questions turning in his mind, Bob leaned back and dropped into an uneventful sleep.  
  
Nearly a week later, Cannon spoke to Bob again, inviting the Guardian to ride with him beyond the base. The base, Bob learned, was composed of various wrecked hulls and pieces of ships that were brought back from hunts, and covered with Web creature skins and skeletons. The skins were sealed to keep out most of the corrosive atmosphere, but Bob learned that everyone still wore their Web armor inside to prevent any further Web degradation.  
Bob looked down from where he was perched on the back of a new mount, surveying the Web around him. A young Rider named Fire had taught him to ride quickly, though Bob was still getting the hang of it. Cannon rode before him, leading them away from the base, towards a large data storm that brewed a few hundred bits away. Not risking to go any closer, Cannon pulled up as soon as the base disappeared from their sights, Bob beside him.  
Cannon did not face Bob, but turned to stare at the storm. "[Interface, I promised you answers to your questions before, and now we have the time that I might answer them. You may ask first, and then I have more to tell you.]"  
Bob sighed, careful not to translate it to Modem. "[How did I get here, Cannon? The last I remember was fighting a virus. Who *was* Interface?]"  
Cannon paused before answering. "[I can only answer part of this, Interface. It is... difficult to explain to one who was not raised with the Riders--or for you to understand. Only you can be Interface now; the One who previously carried that Name must receive it back from you before using it again. Until then, for his sacrifice of Name, he can only be the One.  
"[As to how you came to us, the One brought you. The... pursuit of a viral brought him across your path. How he rescued you I do not know, it is known only to him.]"  
"[You... can't tell me who he was?]"  
Cannon sighed. "[It is not that easy, Interface. In my culture, a Rider's Name is their Being--a Name that is given up to the Winds of the Web at deletion, and never used again. No two may have the same Name, and the Name of the deleted should not be spoken, lest the Wind take exception and bring the Black Ones to our camp.]"  
Bob tried to keep up with Cannon's explanation, but so much translation was lost in myth, he could not understand much of it. "[I believe I understand as much as I can, Cannon. What did you have to show me?]"  
"[First of all, I must apologize. You have been thrown into this position, without prior explanation or consent. And there is no way out for you.]" Bob started, surprised at Cannon's surety. _There has to be a way out--even Dai admitted it. If all she needed was codes, there must be a port somewhere, maybe hidden..._  
Cannon turned to stare at the fiery-eyed Guardian. "[We of the Web have no way out; and I doubt you do, or you would have left already. The Guardians avoid this place, Interface. It's illegal to travel to or from our system without an approved Guardian guide. Times have changed since our Guardians first came to teach the Web peoples. A new threat has bound them against us only recently, causing the One to take his leave of us.]" Cannon turned to watch the storm again, silent for a while. _The Guardians, turning against a system? Especially one as big as the Web? That can't be right..._  
"[I must ask you this, Interface. I do not expect you to give up trying to get back to your system. But for the time that you are here, I must ask you to stay with the Eastern Riders. Stay and help us protect ourselves from the dangers of the Web, and, if need be, the Net. Times are not easy, and the People have grown accustomed to a Guardian among them. I and my eldest son will instruct you in the ways of the Web, if you will share with us both the tales and the customs of the rest of the Net. You are a Guardian--'To Mend and Defend.' Continue to help the People here, for as long as you may, or until the One returns.]"  
Bob listened to his words with a sinking heart, knowing that Cannon did not believe that he would or could get free of the Web--but was afraid that Bob would just wander around, searching until deletion. _I can't give up...I can't. Not while I'm still processing. I *have* to get back to Mainframe, back to...to Dot._   
Cannon turned back to the Guardian, only to find him staring into the distance, pain and indecision in his slumped pose. Cannon laid a hand on Bob's shoulder, staring into Bob's faceplate when he turned. "[You don't have to decide now, and you don't have to give up trying to get home. But don't hold up hope where there is no room for it.]"  
Bob shook his head, trying to deny Cannon's words. "[I won't give up looking for a way home, but I won't leave you unprotected either. I will stay with the Web Riders, at least until I am able to leave.]"  
Cannon nodded solemnly. "[I will be satisfied with that, Interface. May your hunt be short and fruitful.]"  
Bob nodded. "[And may the North Winds always guide your paths.]"  
Cannon looked momentarily startled. "[You learn quickly, Interface.]"  
Bob only nodded again, then turned his beast back towards the camp. Inside his own helmet, he whispered the words to himself. "I will never give up looking for home."  
  



End file.
